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She was still listening in on the conversation when her foot slipped on the last step. “Scales,” she hissed under her breath.

But it was enough.

Helly whipped around, and when she saw Kerrigan, she sighed heavily. “Kerrigan, what are you doing here?”

Kerrigan straightened and marched forward with what she hoped looked like purpose. “I heard what happened.”

“And how did you hear that?” Helly asked. “We haven’t even announced anything yet.”

“Isn’t that her specialty?” Bastian asked with a warm smile.

“Sticking her nose in where it doesn’t belong?”

Kerrigan shrugged. She wasn’t about to say that Dozan Rook had told her. They couldn’t hope to purge all his spies. “This concerns me.”

“It does not,” Helly said. Then, she wrinkled her nose. “Are you drunk?”

“Uh, a bit tipsy,” Kerrigan confessed.

Bastian laughed softly. “You can’t blame her, Hellina. You couldn’t even stand on two feet after you celebrated your tournament win.”

She flashed him an irritated look. Black thumbprints from exhaustion were apparent under her eyes. She’d been running herself ragged with the Basem investigation, and now, it was all starting again. “That is beside the point.”

Corinna covered a laugh with a cough.

“Is he really dead?” Kerrigan asked.

Helly sighed and put a hand on Kerrigan’s shoulder. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Did we at least get any information from him about the Red Masks before this?”

Corinna shook her head. “No. Nothing.”

“This was an inside job,” Kerrigan told them.

“Yes, we came to that conclusion,” Helly said. “And no, you are not part of this investigation. You will let the Society handle it this time.”

“I’m part of the Society now.”

“You have a year of training first. And if I’m not mistaken, you are leaving in the morning.”

“It’s not a crime that she’s invested,” Bastian said. Helly shot him a look full of wrath. But he dismissed her concerns. “I am not suggesting she delay her travels or training, just that you cannot expect her to have no feelings on the matter. She is the one who brought him in.”

Helly nodded. “How about this? I will keep you up to date on the investigation.”

“I would appreciate that.” Kerrigan paused for a moment before leaving. She should let it go, but a part of her couldn’t do it yet. “Are you going to question Society members too?”

Helly and Bastian shared a look.

“We’re still discussing it,” Bastian told her. “But we will do our due diligence.”

Society members were supposed to be above reproach. There should have been no reason to think otherwise. But this death was proof that someone in the Society was involved. Because there was only one reason to kill a man in these dungeons—to keep him from spilling your secrets.

3

The Hangover

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

Kerrigan felt every vibration of the fist against her door inside her skull. She groaned dramatically, covering her eyes with her forearm as she rolled over.

“Go away,” she muttered.

Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. Her eyes burned. At any moment, she might expel the entire contents of her stomach. Every single part of her body ached from head to toe. Normally, she’d have Darby create some kind of herbal potion to help with the hangover. Except Darby was no longer her roommate. She lived in a Row mansion, which meant there was no cure for this terrible feeling.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

Kerrigan cursed the gods as she dragged her body out of bed. She ran a hand back through the frizz of her curly red hair. Sure that it looked like a rat’s nest. Then, she swung the door open.

“Can you keep it down?”

Her eyes moved up, up, up the layers of black silk to the Fae male towering over her in her doorway. It was a sin for someone to look like Prince Fordham Ollivier this early in the morning. He was six and a half feet of solid muscle with black hair that fell forward into his gray eyes, which were currently set on thunderstorm as they glared down at her. He radiated sinister energy, as if something dark and malevolent were trapped under his skin, so pale that it was near translucent. But Kerrigan had promptly gotten over the anger when he didn’t immediately try to kill her. Though he looked like he might try today.

“What are you still doing in bed?” he demanded.

She put her hand up and waved it downward in the general note of keeping it down. “Too loud.”

His grip tightened on the door until the wood creaked. “What in the gods’ names did you do last night?”

“I might have had a drink.” She let her emerald-green eyes meet his, squinting into the hallway light. “Or two.”

“Or ten,” he growled. “You’re a mess.”

“I’m going to sleep for a couple of hours.”

She started to close the door in his face, but he slammed his hand on it, keeping it open.

“We were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago. If you’re not ready in a half hour, I’m leaving without you.”

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